


Betrayal...?

by SpookyVanillaBlast



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Allusions to the Darkspawn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Luminary needs hugs, Night Terrors, Nightmares, This is my first time writing for this fandom and this game, self-hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-16 02:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21028829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyVanillaBlast/pseuds/SpookyVanillaBlast
Summary: He knew that it would end like this, sooner or later. And yet, it still wounded him deeply.





	Betrayal...?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToughAqua777](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToughAqua777/gifts).

* * *

_Why did this happen?_

_How did this happen?_

_Oh yes. Now I remember._

** _It's all my fault._ **

* * *

The mark on his left hand was glowing brightly when he opened his eyes. 

He frowned as he paused to look at it. What could its glow mean this time? It usually signaled something important, but whether it was good or bad was up to random chance. A few paces forward and his frown deepened in confusion. This was the path to downtown Heliodor. The small honeybee flitting about the purple wildflowers that gave off a sweet scent and the beautiful butterflies fluttering about tall, sturdy oak trees with plump green leaves, shining wet with morning dew. Looming over him was the church with its white and grey bricks perfectly aligned. At its center was a window that was stained with a rainbow of different colored glass. At first, he marveled at such a pretty sight. However, that awe turned to alarmed concern when he moved closer. 

The window had bits of purple and white to represent the vaguely humanoid figure in the middle, but the rest of it was doused in a pure, saturated red. It shone down ominously like an eerie prediction and a feeling of nervousness washed over him. Gathering up his courage, he made his way to the large, wooden door and opened it cautiously. Luckily, it was empty inside with the wooden pews lined neatly on top of the wooden floor. A rich purple and red carpet laid in front of the entrance and led to the back, splitting the room. Surrounding the room were smaller stain-glass windows. They were also stained in the same red and bathed the room in that similar eerie glow. The candelabrums glowed a bit brighter and on the wooden altar covered in red cloth lay a piece of paper, folded in half. 

Opening it, the note read: 

**Go to the room on your left for a surprise. **

He turned to see a wooden door on his left with a bloody handprint stain. As he neared the door, a cold feeling of dread settled in his stomach as if there was something behind that door. Something unpleasant. His heart began to beat faster as his hand met with the combination of smooth, cold metal and rough, splintery sinew. To his imagined dread, the door opened with relative ease. At first, the room looked normal. It wasn't bathed in a red glow, but rather in a mixture of blue, green, and purple from the windows. Barrels that held books and a tea set rested on the right side of said room while a bookcase sat on the left. A row of pots bookended by a table holding one lone candle complemented the lower left side. On the other side lay a table covered by a light orange cloth decorated with dark orange triangles and lined with dark green. It also held a candle, books, and an unusually shaped wicker basket covered in plaid green cloth. There was a simple wooden bed that had white sheets and a white pillow. 

There was also a dead body lying on top of the bed. 

Her soft, blond hair fanned out on the pillow neatly while her face looked absolutely peaceful. She wore a white peasant blouse that was covered by a myrtle green dress and red apron. Her brown boots seemed to be caked in mud and swampy residue with bits of blood sticking to the heel. Small bruises littered her legs and arms and her hands rested on top of her stomach, clutching her red kerchief. There were bruising red marks on her neck. 

Gemma. It was Gemma. 

He stumbled forward in shock, horror, and misery as he scooped up her tiny frame in his arms. Tears rolled down his face as he peppered her face with kisses, hoping she would wake up soon. He'd never got to tell her that he loved her, never got to tell her that he missed her every minute ever since that fateful night. As he brushed a single lock of blond hair off of her face, a thought struck him. He told King Carnelian of Cobblestone. The heart within his ribcage pounded in horror as his mind remembered how he gushed of how wonderful Cobblestone and its people were. He told all of them that his mother would have been delighted to see the valor and honor of the Heliodor Kingdom. He remembered telling them that Gemma was worried about him. 

"Why have they done this to you, Gemma?" He whispered as he buried his face in her broken neck. She didn't answer. 

* * *

"Eleven?" 

He turned to see his companions staring at him in confusion, wondering what he was doing. He turned away from them, still hugging the lifeless body close to him. He'd heard Serena's quick footsteps shuffling closer to him, saw her take Gemma's pulse, and saw her face turn solemn. Their reactions fell in a similar manner of grave quietness. He was grateful for having understanding companions by his side as he knew that they have felt a similar loss in their lifetime. He knew that he wasn't the only one who was suffering, but for now he needed some time to mourn. Just then, he felt the temperature drop in the room and it was unsettling, to say the least. 

"So, she is dead?" Sylvando asked in a rather icy tone. 

"Yes," Serena replied in a similarly icy manner. 

"Well then," Veronica angrily piped up. "Who was the one who did the dirty deed?" 

"Eleven." 

His head immediately snapped up in confusion, fear, and a bit of anger. He would never kill Gemma, never in a million years! He turned to protest his innocence, but their cold looks of anger and hunger melted the bits of anger within him. All he could was cling on to Gemma's lifeless body as the rest of the party began to advance on him like a tiger would on a deer. They wanted blood, it seemed, and there was nothing that he could do. Rab suddenly stepped forward and turned towards the group. For a moment, he felt a little hopeful. 

"Now, now, this won't do at all," Rab stated, addressing the group. "We need to think about this rationally." 

"Indeed, Grandfather is right," Jade agreed. She then looked at him with a nasty smirk on her face. "I say we turn him in to the Heliodor authorities at once." 

"She's right," Rab added. "After all, if we turn him in, he'll be dead. And then, we'll wash our hands off this matter forever. What do you all say?" 

He never got to hear their answer, for his legs turned and he crashed out of one of the stained-glass windows. It was now nighttime yet the chilly air did nothing to deter him. A torrent of emotion flooded through his mind as he raced towards Cobblestone, clutching Gemma like a lifeline. At the densely wooded area, he decided to rest for just a minute. He tried to make sense of everything that happened. Why did his friends think that Gemma was killed by his hands? Did they mean that literally or figuratively? He looked at her. She looked so beautiful. 

"I promise, Gemma," he whispered, cradling her. "I will return you to Cobblestone." 

He shook his head, carried her body once more, and headed for Cobblestone, never realizing that someone was watching. 

* * *

"Well, Gemma, here we are." 

He found himself burying her at their favorite tree from when they were kids. Even when Cobblestone went to ruin, the tree remained standing tall. It was once a source of great comfort to both him and Gemma and now it served as bittersweet memories. The tree loomed over him with its huge, strong branches, large green leaves, and sturdy roots. His eyes wandered to the charred remains of the stone houses, church, and shops that once made Cobblestone so warm, lively, and inviting. Now, all that remained was flimsy and ruined rubble and the vague hints of smoke. 

"Hey, Eleven!" 

He yelped and turned around to see Erik smiling at him. Immediately, he launched himself into Erik, hugging him like a lifeline and burying his face into his chest. He felt Erik's hands rub circles into his back, calming him down. Erik was still on his side after all this time. He looked up at Erik as if he was a child and the man in question smiled down at him gently. After a few minutes, the Luminary calmed down and reluctantly released him. A moment passed before Erik sat down on one of the tree's roots and looked at all of the stars. 

"What happened, El," Erik asked. "I went to get some food and directions and when I came back, you and everyone else were gone. Where did you guys go?" 

"They wanted to kill me," The Luminary stated. "They accused me of killing Gemma and wanted to bring me back to Heliodor, to King Carnelian." 

"That's nuts, El," Erik protested. "Why would they want to do that for?" 

"I...I have no clue," Eleven whispered. "I'm scared, Erik." 

"Easy, easy," Erik soothed. "You can count on me, El. Why don't we get to somewhere where they can't find us? Can you think of a place?" 

* * *

"This is the place huh," Erik whistled. "Wow." 

The trip to the top of Cobblestone Tor was just as difficult as it was the first time around, perhaps even more so without Gemma. But they made it and were currently at the edge of the tor. Eleven could see everything from here, from the beautiful lakes that seemed to sparkle with stars to rich, crisp fog of the dense woods. He breathed it all in, wanting a last moment before he hid from the world once again. He could feel Erik walk behind him but he didn't mind. He could trust Erik, Erik was his friend. There was nothing to worry about, right? 

_THWACK!_

He felt his head explode and his body fall to the ground. He emitted a groan of pain as the hard object collided with his head once or twice. He felt a stream of blood rush from his head while the pain increased. He looked up to see Erik no longer having those kind eyes and friendly smile. There was something about it that made the Luminary's face fill with tears once more. This wasn't the cold hate of his companions; no, this was personal. It was as if Erik was doing this out of a visceral hate. 

"Tch," Erik snorted. "Stubborn fellow, aren't you? Well, we'll fix that in no time." He got out his knife. 

"Erik," Eleven whimpered. "No. Please." 

"Please," Erik spat. "I bet that's what Gemma said before you killed her." 

"No, Erik, I didn't-"

"LIES," Erik bellowed. "Nothing but lies ever since I followed you! Look what happened to the world! Can't you take responsibility for once, Darkspawn?!"

Eleven's eyes widened. "No. No, I'm not a Darkspawn. I'm not. I'm not." 

"Well, you are now," Erik sneered before plunging the knife into Eleven's chest. 

* * *

"Eleven, wake up!" 

"Darling, please wake up!" 

He tossed and turned with sweat as he began to hear concerned voices. No, that's impossible. Wasn't he dead? Shouldn't he be dead? Why wasn't he dead? He clutched the sheets tighter, burrowing under them, not comprehending anything. He felt sticky. 

"Please, Eleven, you're having a bad dream!" 

"Come on, Eleven! Wake up!" 

Those voices sounded so alluring to his ears, he almost wanted to believe it. But could he believe it the same way they believed that he would kill Gemma? Gemma. Gemma! Oh no! Gemma was-!

"My boy, it's okay! Nothing can hurt you!" 

"Please, El! You got to wake up!" 

That sounded familiar. He opened his eyes against his will to find his companions not staring at him with hatred, but instead with concern. He felt the coarse wool of the blanket wrapped around him as well as a thin, wet cloth on his forehead. He blearily looked about as he tried to discern the room that he was in. Aside from his companions, two people stood in the doorway, looking at him as well. He felt embarrassment flood his face at that moment and murmured soft apologies. He didn't mean to make a scene. 

"Sorry," Eleven murmured once more.

"It's okay, Eleven," Jade shushed. "You were having a fever dream." 

"A fever dream?" Eleven asked. "How?" 

"You caught a cold on the way back from Sniflhelm." Veronica explained, moving towards him. He flinched. "You fainted when we entered this place." 

"Oh, okay, sorry about that." 

"Don't worry, Eleven," Serena smiled. "You'll feel better in a couple of days. In the meantime, just rest." 

Eleven nodded and they soon made their way back into their rooms. Only Erik remained since he shared a room with Eleven. The minutes passed by and yet Eleven couldn't fall asleep. He wanted to say something to Erik, wanted to make sure that everything was alright. He heard the shuffle of the blankets and the patter of footsteps coming closer. He felt the tender hand of Erik's and smiled in bliss. He liked that.

"Gee, kid," Erik chuckled. "You make me worry sometimes." 

"Sorry,"

"I heard you in your sleep," Erik frowned. "Gemma means a lot to you, huh?" 

"Mhmm." 

"I don't think you're the Darkspawn," Erik continued. "And we will fix all of this. Together."

Eleven smiled. He didn't know how long it would be before he stopped being jumpy towards his companions, but he believed the strength of those words. Even if it was for a little while. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on a tumblr post by ToughAqua777 where she had a dream that the Luminary was betrayed by Erik and that the Luminary was crying. I tried my best but I got a little tired in the end. Hopefully, it's in time for Halloween!
> 
> Well, I hope you readers enjoyed this look into one of the depths of the Luminary's psyche.


End file.
